NOTE FF. Vol. ii. pp. 17, 47, 49, 53.
Tynemouth and Bamburgh.
The history of Tynemouth, and of Saint Oswine in relation to Tynemouth, comes largely from the Life of Saint Oswine in the Miscellanea Biographica published by the Surtees Society. This is the work of a monk of Saint Alban’s who went to Tynemouth in 1111. There are also several Saint Alban’s documents printed in the Monasticon, iii. 312. There is a large history of Tynemouth by Mr. W. S. Gibson, from which much may be learned, though the valuable facts and documents have largely to be dug out of a mass of irrelevant matter.
According to the Saint Alban’s writer, Eadwine built a wooden church at Tynemouth, and there his daughter Rosella took the veil. The name is strange enough, but we may perhaps see a confused tradition of a British name, when we read that “locus ubi nunc cœnobium Tinemuthense est, antiquitus a Saxonibus dicebatur Penbalcrag, i.e. caput valli in rupe. Nam circa hunc locum finis erat valli Severiani.” This building must be the same as that which is referred to in the Life, p. 11; “Delatus est ad ostium Tynæ fluminis, locum videlicet ab incolis regionis ob imminentis rupis securitatem ab hostibus celebrius frequentatum. Sed ob reverentiam gloriosæ Virgini Mariæ inibi exhibitam tenerius amatum, ibique sepultus est in oratorio ejusdem Virginis, quod constructum erat ad aquilonem fluminis.” He goes on to tell how Oswald rebuilt the wooden church of stone, and how the monastery was more than once destroyed by the Danes. The Saint Alban’s writer (Mon. Angl. iii. 312) speaks more specially of the Danes. The biographer carries us at once to the time of Tostig;
“Memoria sancti martyris Oswini, obsoleta et penitus deleta, funditus ab hominum notitia evanuit. Jacuitque per multa annorum curricula gleba sancti corporis sub abjectiori cespite tumulata et usque ad tempora Thostii comitis et Ægelwini præsulis Dunelmi, incuriæ pariter et ignorantiæ neglectu, debita veneratione est fraudata.”
The writer has a curious remark to account for the neglect of the saint; “Genti prædictæ nunc fideles, nunc infideles principabantur, et juxta principum instituta, varia divinus cultus in subjectarum plebium studiis sensit dispendia.” This is doubtless true of Deira, hardly so of Bernicia, where no heathen prince reigned, though passing heathens did a good deal of damage.
He then gives a long account of the invention of the saint’s body, which came about through the vision of a monk named Eadmund. Judith, according to the character which she bears elsewhere (see N. C. vol. ii. p. 391), appears as “devota Deo famula,” “præpotens et devota femina,” “veneranda comitissa.” Of Tostig we are told that he succeeded Siward, “non testamenti beneficio, sed sancti regis Ædwardi dono regio.” He is described as beginning the new church which the monks of Saint Alban’s afterwards finished (p. 15); “Cujus tamen fundamenti initia, ut dicitur, comes Thostius jecerat, a fundamentis ædificaverunt.” But his deposition and death seem to be looked upon as a judgement for not being present in person at the invention (“Quia prædixtus comes Thostius interesse sanctæ inventioni in ditione sua factæ noluit, eodem anno culpis suis exigentibus ab Anglorum regno expulsus,” &c.), the exact date of which is given, March 15, 1065. It is added, “Thostio comite proscripto, hæreditas ejus devoluta est ad fiscum regium.”
Simeon in his History of the Church of Durham, iv. 4, puts the acts of Tostig and of Waltheof together under the head of Northumbrian earls; “Ecclesiam sane sancti Oswini in Tinemuthe, jamdudum donantibus Northymbriæ comitibus, monachi cum adhuc essent in Gyrvum possederant, unde etiam ipsius sancti ossa ad se transferentes in ecclesia sancti Pauli secum non parvo tempore habuerunt, quæ postmodum ad priorem locum retulerunt.” He then goes on to record the confirmation by Earl Alberic, who “hoc donum renovavit, ipsamque ecclesiam cum suo presbitero ecclesiæ sancti Cuthberti perpetuo possidendam adjecit.”
It would seem that the fall of Tostig hindered the completion of his church, and that at the time of Waltheof’s grant it was still without a roof; for he goes on to say, “Quæ cum jam per quindecim annos velut deserta sine tecto durasset, eam monachi culmine imposito renovarunt, et per tres annos possederunt.” On receiving the confirmation of Alberic, a monk with a good Danish name was sent to put things in better order (Simeon, Gesta Regum, 1121); “Ex capituli totius sententia monachus noster Turchillus illuc mittitur, qui renovato ecclesiæ ipsius culmine, per multum tempus habitavit ibidem.”
I have referred to the charter of Waltheof and to the entry in Simeon (Gesta Regum, 1080) in N. C. vol. iv. p. 666. It is printed, along with a charter of Bishop William confirming it, dated April 27, 1085, in the time of Earl Alberic, whose confirmation is recorded, in the Surtees book called Historiæ Dunelmensis Scriptores Tres, pp. xviii, xix. The signatures to both are nearly all English, with the single exception of two to the charter of Waltheof. These are Gilbert, the nephew (see N. C. vol. iv. p. 665) of Bishop Walcher, and an unknown Walter. We meet with several other men that we know, as Morkere’s father Ligulf and his brother Uhtred, and Leofwine, written “Leobwinus,” the Dean of Durham. We notice also “Ernan Biscope sune,” and three Englishmen with the knightly title “Alwinus miles,” “Wlstanus miles,” and “Kinewlfus miles,” but I do not understand “signum Aldredi comitis.” Earl Ealdred, the common grandfather of Waltheof and young Morkere, had been murdered long ago, as the sons of Carl found to their cost. The story is told again in Simeon, Gesta Regum, 1121.
The next stage in the story is the taking away of Tynemouth from the church of Durham. It is amusing to contrast the ways in which this story is told at Durham and at Saint Alban’s. Simeon, in the chapter just quoted, tells us that Earl Robert made the gift to Saint Alban’s “propter inimicitias quæ inter episcopum et ipsum agitabantur” (cf. Gesta Regum, 1121). The cause of their ill-will, a dispute about lands, comes out in the next chapter. Roger of Wendover (ii. 39), who is copied by Matthew Paris (Hist. Ang. i. 41, and Chron. Maj. ii. 31), tells us how Earl Robert—“vir quidem Deo devotus,” Matthew says—gave Tynemouth to Saint Alban’s “divina inspiratione tactus.” The Gesta Abbatum (i. 57) add that it was done “regis et archiepiscopi Lanfranci benevolentia.” It would seem that under Durham rule Tynemouth had been simply an impropriate church, while in the hands of Saint Alban’s it became a cell. The judgement on Abbot Paul is recorded in the Durham History, iv. 4. The Gesta Abbatum, which record much about him, both good and evil, say nothing about this. The Life of Oswine, p. 15, gives a full account of the ceremony of the translation of Saint Oswine, with the date. Bishop Randolf of Durham was there, Abbot Richard of Saint Alban’s, and “Abbas Salesberiensis Hugo,” where we may see (see Mon. Angl. iii. 495) the old confusion (see N. C. vol. iv. p. 799) between Salisbury and Selby.
Tynemouth then, at the time when the revolt of Robert of Mowbray began (see p. 47), was already a monastery and a cell to Saint Alban’s, though the monks of Durham still held that they had been wrongfully deprived of it. But it appears from the narrative that, besides the monastery, there was also a castle. The account in the Chronicle is, “And þone castel æt Tinemuðan besæt oððet he hine gewann, and þæs eorles broðer þærinne and ealle þa þe him mid wæron.” Florence says, “Rex exercitu de tota Anglia congregato, castellum prædicti comitis Rotberti, ad ostium Tinæ fluminis situm, per duos menses obsedit; et interim, quadam munitiuncula expugnata, ferme omnes meliores comitis milites cepit, et in custodia posuit; dein obsessum castellum expugnavit, et fratrem comitis, et equites, quos intus inveniebat, custodiæ tradidit.” Florence seems to me to have confounded the sieges of Tynemouth and of the New Castle. By the “castellum ad ostium Tinæ” he would seem to mean the New Castle, and by his “munitiuncula” he would seem to mean the Earl’s fortress at Tynemouth. Now what was the relation between the castle and the monastery? As things now stand, castle and monastery are one. That is to say, the deserted church—or more strictly the two deserted churches, monastic and parochial, once under one roof (see Archæological Journal, vol. xxxvii. p. 250, No. 147, 1880)—standing on the northern promontory is now surrounded by military buildings and the great gate-house. I get my notion of the early arrangements of Tynemouth from several old plans collected by Mr. Gibson. There is one which seems to be of the sixteenth century, and, as the names are written in a curious mixture of English, Latin, and Italian, it struck me that it might be the work of an officer of those Italian mercenaries who were employed in the civil wars of Edward the Sixth. This is the only one which distinctly shows “the Castle,” on the southern promontory, though all mark that point as taken in within the lines of defence. It seems to me that the southern promontory must have been the site of the original castle, and that the name of Castle has shifted to the great gate-house, which fairly deserves it.
With regard to the order of the sieges, Orderic, who gives us so full an account of the siege of Bamburgh, tells us nothing about the others. I gather from the words of the Chronicle that the New Castle, which we find in the King’s hands directly after, was the point which was first taken; “Sona þes þe he þider [to Norðhymbran] com, he manege and forneah ealle þa betste of þes eorles hirede innan anan fæstene gewann, and on hæftene gedyde.” Florence, as I have said, seems to have misunderstood the words of the Chronicler, and to have confounded Tynemouth and the New Castle. This last would surely be, as the Chronicle implies, the first point of attack after the army entered Northumberland in the sense which that word now bears. Next in the narrative of the Chronicle follows the siege and capture of Tynemouth, and then the great siege of Bamburgh. Of this famous fortress I found something to say long ago in N. C. vol. i. p. 410, where Bamburgh appears as marking one stage in the art of fortification. Bæda (iii. 16) witnesses that the place took its name “ex Bebbæ quondam reginæ vocabulo;” so also the Northumbrian writer copied by Simeon of Durham, 774;
“Bebba civitas urbs est munitissima, non admodum magna, sed quasi duorum vel trium agrorum spatium, habens unum introitum cavatum, et gradibus miro modo exaltatum. Habet in summitate montis ecclesiam præpulcre factam, in qua est scrinium speciosum et pretiosum. In quo involuta pallio jacet dextera manus sancti Oswaldi regis incorrupta, sicut narrat Beda historiographus hujus gentis.”
The reference here is to Bæda, iii. 6, where he tells the story of Oswald’s bounty and the prophecy of Aidan, and adds how his hand and arm, cut off after his death in the battle by Penda, “in urbe regia quæ a regina quondam vocabulo Bebba cognominatur, loculo inclusæ argenteo in ecclesia sancti Petri servantur, ac digno a cunctis honore venerantur.” So again, iii. 12, where Bamburgh is simply “regia civitas.” He goes on to speak of the well; “Est in occidente et in summitate ipsius civitatis fons miro cavatus opere, dulcis ad potandum et purissimus ad videndum.” Florence also refers to the origin of the name; with him it is “Bebbanbyrig, id est, Urbs Bebbæ reginæ;” and Orderic (704 A) draws a little picture of the spot; “Munitissimum castrum, quod Babbenburg dicitur, obsederunt. Et quoniam illa munitio inexpugnabilis erat, quia inaccessibilis videbatur propter paludes et aquas, et alia quædam itinerantibus contraria, quibus ambiebatur, rex novam munitionem ad defensionem provinciæ et coartationem hostium construxit, et militibus, armis, ac victualibus implevit.” This last fact, the making of the Malvoisin, is recorded by the Chronicler and Florence, both of whom give the name. The Chronicler says; “Ac þa þa se cyng geseah þæt he hine gewinnan ne mihte, þa het he makian ænne castel toforan Bebbaburh and hine on his spæce Malueisin het, þæt is on Englisc yfel nehhebur, and hine swiðe mid his mannan gesætte, and syððan suðweard for.” So Florence; “Ante Bebbanbyrig in quam comes fugerat, castellum firmavit, id que Malveisin nominavit, et in illo militibus positis, in Suthymbriam rediit.” We may here note the way in which the Chronicler assumes French as the language of William Rufus, and also Florence’s somewhat archaic way of speaking of “Suthymbria,” where the Chronicler says simply “suðweard.” It is something like his mention of West-Saxonia in 1091 (see vol. i. p. 305).
The Malvoisin was clearly such a tower as we often hear of, temporary and of wood, but still not moveable, as is implied in Florence’s word “firmavit.” But the name seems afterwards to have been transferred to moveable towers; see Du Cange in Malveisin, where he refers to the passage about the siege of Dover in Roger of Wendover, iii. 380; “Misso prius ad patrem suum propter petrariam, quæ ‘Malveisine’ Gallice nuncupatur, qua cum machinis aliis Franci ante castrum locata muros acriter crebris ictibus verberabant.” In his account of the siege of Bamburgh (ii. 46) Roger says, “Cum castellum inexpugnabile advertit, ante castellum illud castellum aliud ligneum construxit, quod Malveisin appellavit, in quo partem exercitus sui relinquens inde recessit.” Matthew Paris copies this in the Chronica Majora in the Historia Anglorum, i. 48; his words are, “Ante castellum illud aliud sed ligneum construxit, ad præcludendum illis exitum, quod patria lingua Maleveisine appellavit.” Viollet-le-Duc (Military Architecture of the Middle Ages, 24, Eng. trans.) seems to imply that moveable towers were known earlier than this time, but he seems (p. 30) to bring the petraria from the East.
As for the details of the siege, the Chronicler and Florence tell us nothing till we come to the escape of Robert from Bamburgh. It is Orderic who gives us the picture of the state of mind of Robert and his companions, which, if it belongs to any period of the siege, must belong to the time before the King went southward. We see the loyal troops busily working at the making of the Malvoisin;
“Conscii autem perfidiæ et fautores eorum detegi verentes conticuerunt, et metu exsangues, quia conatus suos nihil valere perpenderunt, regiis cohortibus immixti, ejus servitium, cujus exitium optaverant, prompte aggressi sunt. Interea, dum rex in armis cum agminibus suis ad bellum promptus constaret, et chiliarchos ac centuriones, aliosque proceres Albionis, cum subditis sibi plebibus, operi novæ munitionis indesinenter insistere compelleret, Rodbertus de propugnaculis suis contrarium sibi opus mœstus conspiciebat, et complices suos alta voce nominatim compellebat, ac ut jusjurandum de proditionis societate conservarent, palam commonebat. Rex autem cum fidelibus suis hæc audiens ridebat, et conscia reatus publicati mens conscios et participes timore et verecundia torquebat.”
Then the King goes away; in Orderic’s phrase, “rege ad sua prospere remeante, et de moderamine regni cum suis amicis solerter tractante,” a rather odd description of the war in Wales. Now comes Robert’s escape from Bamburgh. Orderic, who seems to have no clear idea of any place except Bamburgh, merely says that Robert, “longæ obsidionis tædio nauseatus, noctu exilivit, et de castro in castrum migrare volens in manus inimicorum incidit.” The Chronicle is fuller; “Ða sona æfter þam þe se cyng wæs suð afaren feorde se eorl anre nihte ut of Bebbaburh towardes Tinemuðan, ac þa þe innan þam niwun castele wæron his gewær wurdon, and him æfter foran and onfuhton and hine gewundedon, and syððan gelæhton, and þa þe mid him wæron sume ofslogan sume lifes gefengon.” But it is from Florence that we get the detailed account. His story runs thus;
“Post cujus discessum, comiti Rotberto vigiles Novi Castelli promisere in id se permissuros illum intrare, si veniret occulte. Ille autem lætus effectus, quadam nocte cum xxx. militibus ut id perageret exivit. Quo cognito, equites qui castellum custodiebant illum insequentes, ejus exitum custodibus Novi Castelli per nuntios intimaverunt. Quod ille nesciens, die dominica tentavit peragere cœpta, sed nequivit, deprehensus enim erat. Eapropter ad monasterium S. Oswini regis et martyris fugit, ubi sexto die obsessionis suæ graviter in crure est vulneratus dum suis adversariis repugnaret, quorum multi perempti, multi sunt vulnerati, de suis quoque nonnulli vulnerati, omnes sunt capti; ille vero in ecclesiam fugit, de qua extractus, in custodia est positus.”
Here now comes the obvious difficulty as to the way in which the Earl could have got into the monastery at Tynemouth after the castle had been taken. The Chronicler indeed does not necessarily imply that he got into Tynemouth at all. The fight which he describes might have happened somewhere else and not at Tynemouth. And if any one chooses to move the site of Robert’s resistance and capture from Tynemouth to some unknown spot, there is only the statement of Florence against him. That Robert was taken, and taken after a stout resistance, is plain.
With Robert’s capture, Orderic ends his story, as far as military operations are concerned. “Captus a satellitibus regis, Rodbertus finem belli fecit.” In a very general way this is not untrue; it was the capture of Robert which brought about the end of the war. But it is odd that he should have left out the striking story of the captive Earl being brought under frightful threats before the castle which his wife was defending. This stands out clearly in the Chronicle; “Ða þa se cyng ongean com, þa het he niman þone eorl Rotbeard of Norðymbram, and to Bæbbaburh lædan, and ægðer eage ut adon, buton þa þe þærinne wæron þone castel agyfan woldan. Hine heoldan his wif and Moreal, se wæs stiward and eac his mæg. Ðurh þis wearð se cartel þa agyfen.” Florence translates this.
Lastly comes the great difference of all as to Earl Robert’s last days. The Chronicler and Florence merely record his imprisonment at Windsor, without saying how long it lasted. Florence says only, “Comes forti custodiæ mancipandus ad Windlesoram est ductus,” followed by the passage about Morel quoted in p. 55. He says nothing about the many accusations brought by Morel, or about the special summons of all the tenants-in-chief to the trial, of which the Chronicler speaks (see p. 56). The Chronicler, after recording them, says; “And þone eorl Rotbert hét se cyng to Windlesoran lædan, and þær innan þam castele healdan.” This is consistent with any later destiny, with release and monastic profession or with lifelong imprisonment. This last is asserted by several authorities. Thus Orderic (704 A) says; “Rodbertus…. fere triginta annis in vinculis vixit, ibique scelerum suorum pœnas luens consenuit.” He then sets forth the sad state of his wife; “Mathildis uxor ejus, quæ cum eo vix unquam læta fuerat, quia in articulo perturbationis desponsata fuerat, et inter bellicas clades tribus tantum mensibus cum tremore viri thoro incubuerat, maritali consolatione cito caruit, multisque mœroribus afflicta diu gemuit.” The Continuator of William of Jumièges (viii. 8), who has nothing to say about Matilda, equally bears witness to Robert’s lifelong imprisonment; “Captus a militibus Willelmi regis, ipsoque jubente in ipsis vinculis diutius perseverans; regnante jam Henrico rege, tandem in ipso ergastulo deficiens mortuus est.” So William of Malmesbury, iv. 319; “Captus et æternis vinculis irretitus est.”
On the other hand, there clearly was a story according to which Robert was released some time or other, and died a monk at Saint Alban’s. It is somewhat remarkable that there is no mention of this in any of the chief writings of Matthew Paris, neither in the Historia Major nor the Historia Anglorum, nor the Lives of the Abbots. But we find the story implied in the extract from his Additamenta in the Monasticon, iii. 312; “Ibidem [at Tynemouth] monachos congregavit de domo sancti Albani, tanquam ab electissima domo inter omnia cœnobia Angliæ, ubi etiam se vovit monasticum habitum suscepturum, et sepulturam in loco memorato. Quæ omnia, Deo sibi propitio, feliciter consummavit.” So in the Abbreviatio Chronicorum (Hist. Angl. iii. 175), a marginal note is added to the name of Earl Robert; “Sepultus est apud sanctum Albanum.” But, oddly enough, the most distinct statement that he became a monk comes, not from any Saint Alban’s writer, but from one manuscript of the “De Regibus Saxonum Libellus” at the end of the Surtees Simeon, p. 214. King Henry keeps Robert of Mowbray some while in prison; then “rogatu baronum suorum eundem resolvens, concessit illi mutare vitam habitumque sæcularem. Qui ingressus monasterium Sancti Albani sub professione monastica ibidem vitam finivit.”
The story about Matilda’s second marriage and divorce comes from Orderic. His story runs thus; “Vir ejus, ut dictum est, in carcere vivebat, nec ipsa, eo vivente, secundum legem Dei alteri nubere legitime valebat. Tandem, permissu Paschalis papæ, cui res a curiosis enucleata patuit, post multos dies Nigellus de Albineio ipsam uxorem accepit, et pro favore nobilium parentum ejus, aliquamdiu honorifice tenuit. Verum, defuncto Gisleberto de Aquila fratre ejus, vafer occasionem divortii exquisivit, eamque, quia consanguinei sui conjux fuerat, repudiavit, et Gundream, sororem Hugonis de Gornaco, uxorem duxit.” If all this happened at all, it must have happened between 1099 and 1118, the years which mark the reign of Paschal.
Matilda of Laigle could not well have been the sister of William the Chaplain to whom Bishop Herbert Losinga writes his third letter (Ep. Herberti, p. 5). He there says; “De matrimonio sororis vestræ non aliud respondeo vobis, quam id quod præsens ex ore meo audivistis, suo videlicet ut vivente viro, secundum evangelium et secundum sanctorum canonum usum, alii viro nubere non potest.” But the person spoken of could hardly have been thinking of such a marriage, unless she had some special excuse, like this of Matilda.
The second wife of Nigel appears both as “Gundrea” and as “Gundreda.” There is a great deal about her husband Nigel and her son Robert, the founder of Byland Abbey, in the Monasticon, v. 346–351. The marriage of Nigel and Gundreda took place after Tinchebrai, and as King Henry gave Nigel the castle of Mowbray, and much else in Normandy and England which had belonged to Earl Robert, their son Roger called himself Roger of Mowbray. Such a description was likely to lead to confusion, and it may have led some to fancy that later bearers of the name of Mowbray had something to do with the famous Bishop and Earl of our story. The artificial Percy is indeed connected with the real one by grandmothers; but the artificial Mowbray was purely artificial. This Roger of Mowbray appears also in the Continuator of William of Jumièges, viii. 8, who tells us that Nigel himself became a monk at Bec.
As Walknol has been casually mentioned in the text (p. 47) there may be some interest in a document in the Cartulary of Newminster published by the Surtees Society, p. 178. The date must be after 1137, the date of the foundation of Newminster. The number of English names, and specially the two bearers of scriptural names who are sons of English-named fathers, illustrate points of which I have often had to speak;
“De terra de Walknol in castro. Johannes filius Edwyni fabri, salutem. Sciatis me concessisse, dedisse, et hac præsenti carta mea confirmasse, Bartholomæo filio Edricii illam terram totam quæ jacet in australi parte cimiterii capellæ beati Michaelis, in longitudine a curtillo Eadmundi clerici usque ad terram quæ fuit Johannis Stanhard, et in latitudine a cimiterio capellæ beati Michaelis usque ad antiquam communem viam subtus versus austrum. Habendum et tenendum eidem Bartholomæo et hæredibus suis de me et hæredibus meis et assignatis in perpetuum, libere, quiete, et pacifice, pro duabus marcis arg. quas michi dedit idem Bartholomæus in manu in mea magna necessitate.”